Anger
by RavennaNightwind
Summary: A serial killer stalks women before killing them. Sequel to my story Denial. Summary inside. Will have GSR and Yo!Bling.
1. Click

Anger

**Anger**

**A/N: **This is the second in my series. The first story is called Denial. I guess this story _could _make sense if you didn't read it, but you definitely should read it first. Enjoy!

**Summary: **Sequel to Denial. A killer stalks his victims before finally becoming overly jealous of their significant other. He kills his victims, leaving them in their homes to be discovered and moves on to another kill. The CSIs catch this case as the killer escalates, becoming more and more dangerous with each kill.

**Ships: **Grissom/Sara, Warrick/Catherine, and friendship everywhere. Oh, and maybe some Hodges/Wendy. Hmm… I think that's it.

**Rating: **T for blood, sex, and all that good stuff. I rated it "T" because everything I will have in this story is shown on TV, because if they can show all that stuff on TV and rate it PG-14, then I can rate this T.

**Click**_ Prologue_

_Click._

Her image was captured forever. He felt like he was taking a little piece of her soul every time that he took her picture. It made him happy to know that he owned a part of her.

_Click._

Another picture. This time it was of her profile. She was a beautiful woman. Her brown hair was just long enough for her to throw over her shoulders. He loved watching her. She was everything he wasn't: smart, beautiful, successful, loved.

_Click._

He often wondered what she would think if she knew he loved her. He wanted to just step out of his car and tell her how he felt, but if she turned him down, it could ruin everything.

_Click._

This time, the woman was meeting a man. The man was tall and handsome. The woman was smiling, giggling at something he had said.

_Click._

The photographer was furious. Even his camera sounded angry. The woman took the stranger—how dare she go somewhere with a stranger? Didn't she know it wasn't safe?—by the hand and led him down the street.

_Click._

Another image of her was captured forever. He took a deep breath before he turned on his car. Maybe they were just friends. After all, she hadn't tried to dress up or anything. She could just be meeting this stranger for a drink or something equally unserious. If it was serious…

_Click._

He never finished his sentence, instead choosing to follow them slowly in his car. He placed the camera on the seat next to him so he could drive well. The couple walked into a corner restaurant and he parked where he could see them.

_Click._

They were ordering drinks.

_Click._

Their drinks had arrived and they were discussing the menu.

_Click._

Their food arrived.

_Click._

The man touched her hand.

_Click._

She smiled _his _smile at him. The photographer was insanely jealous. Her smile belonged to _him, _not this stranger.

_Click._

Their dessert came.

_Click._

He insisted on paying the check.

_Click._

They walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand. They were headed back to her apartment. He went in with her. This time, the photographer took no pictures. She had betrayed him. She was going to sleep with this stranger. The stranger would destroy her innocence. And, she belonged to _him!_

He waited five minutes, giving the man a chance to come down. After the five minutes passed, he left his car. He jogged to the building, pulling out a duplicate key from his pocket. He had copied her key several weeks ago, just in case. He walked up the two flights of stairs, acting like he was supposed to be there. The three people that he passed didn't give him a second glance. No one expected that this man was a killer.

2C.

Her door was just sitting there, begging him to open it. Putting his ear to the door, he listened carefully as he slipped the key in the door. He heard a few noises coming from the bedroom. The door unlocked easily and he slipped in, locking the door behind him. He went first to the kitchen, grabbing a knife.

He had been here many times before, but this was the first time he wanted to be seen.

The knife was dangerous looking in the semi-darkness. It glinted every so often from the eternal light of Vegas that flooded through the curtains. He walked silently to the bedroom, his feet making little to no noise on the carpet. He peered into the bedroom, disgusted with what he saw.

The stranger was on top of _his _woman. He had stripped off her shirt, throwing it carelessly on the ground. His was half off his shoulders and he was working on taking off her pants.

The woman saw him first and screamed. The stranger turned and the photographer attacked him. He stabbed him over and over and over and over again. The woman was stunned into a terrified silence. He reached over to move a piece of hair out of her face and she flinched. Angry, he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

Her large hazel eyes were full of tears and the smile he loved so much was gone. The reality hit him a little too hard. She didn't love him. She loved the man who was lying dead on the floor. He had never told her how he felt and now it was too late. He finished what the stranger had started, taking her as his own.

After, she cried. He told her to stop, but she couldn't. He wanted to hold her, to make her feel better, but she started screaming again. Without thinking, he stabbed her, just like he had done to the stranger. But, she only screamed louder. He stabbed again and again and again. Sometime after his third stab, she had grown silent, but he kept stabbing her.

Everything was silent after he stopped. He wiped his prints off the knife with his shirt, desperately trying to clean up. He stepped into the shower, fully clothed. He scrubbed away all traces of blood and found a bottle of bleach after he was done. He threw the bleach all over her bed and all over her. The stranger wasn't such a big problem: he had been too surprised to fight back.

He ran off, heading to his car. He left, making sure that no one saw him. On his way home, he pulled the film out of his camera and opened it, ruining all the pictures of her. He put in another roll of film and looked for someone else.

Later that morning, he found her.

_Click._

He now owned part of her soul.

CSICSICSICSI

Greg and Nick had gotten the call. They headed out in their Tahoe and drove to the woman's apartment. It was a double homicide. According to Grissom, this was "their turn" to take the especially gory scene. As they entered the apartment, they could see why.

The place reeked of a mixture of bleach and the coppery tang of blood. The kitchen and living rooms looked normal, but the bedroom was a different story. Two bodies lay in there with similar wounds. The woman lay on the bed, wearing only a bra and underwear. She was stabbed at least ten times.

The man lay on the floor, stabbed at least five times. His eyes were wide and glassy, staring up at Greg and Nick as they entered.

The source of the bleach smell was apparent. The woman and the bed were drenched in it. Her eyes were shut, as if she was trying to block out the face of whoever had stabbed her.

Sofia Curtis was the detective on this case. She stood outside the door, looking grim. "Female's name is Christine Little. She lived here. The man is Steven Fuller. The two were college sweet hearts, according to one of the neighbors."

Nick and Greg nodded and began processing the scene of this particularly gruesome crime.

CSICSICSI

**A/N: **Okay! That's all for this chapter. Well, it's only a prologue… And, I promise the rest of the CSIs will be in it in the later chapters. Sorry for the delay, but I had a hard time deciding what the criminal should do. So, leave me a review! Please?


	2. Teaching

Anger

**Anger**

**A/N: **Wow, I had a HUGE turn out for my first chapter. It filled up my inbox with people reviewing and adding me and/or my story to their alerts/favorites list. You have no idea how happy that made me. Thank you for every single review! I try to reply to all of them, but sometimes I don't get around to it. So, every review is appreciated! Sorry for the long wait!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned CSI, why would I write fanfiction?

**NOTE: **Some things may become slightly AU. I'll try my best to keep it not AU, though.

**Teaching **_Chapter One_

He walked down the street, headed to work. He was looking for another girl, hoping to find the perfect one, this time. No one paid any attention to him because he blended so well into a crowd. His camera was slung over his shoulder, ready to photograph anything that he thought was worthy of surviving eternity.

That's when he saw her. She was beautiful in the sunlight. Her hair was dark red, but in the sun, it seemed like fire. He fumbled to grab his camera, removing the cover on the lens before snapping a picture of her. She was in her mid thirties with flawless white skin. He was in love again.

_Click._

The camera caught her image and this tiny sliver of her soul belonged to him. He walked closer, pretending to take a picture of the skyline. He was only about ten feet away and zoomed in on her, again feigning interest in the sky. She walked into a building that he knew was an office building. He smiled. He now knew where she worked.

The woman was gone before he could get any closer, but he was content, for now, with his pictures. He continued to walk to work, this time with a smile on his face. Who needed Christine? He had her now. Christine had been a slut with a pretty face, but he was certain that this one was different.

CSICSICSI

Greg had gone back to the lab with most of the evidence, leaving Nick in the apartment to finish processing the scene. The two CSIs had dusted for prints, coming up empty. The bleach had killed their hopes for DNA, but they still tried. Nick was processing the bathroom carefully. Using luminol, he was able to determine that the killer had entered the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

He sprayed the shower with luminol, making it glow in the dim light. He collected samples from the shower, hoping that their killer had left a trace. He checked every drain, looking for hairs that didn't belong to Christine Little or her boy friend. So far, all he found were long brown hairs.

But that didn't stop him. Nick scoured the entire bathroom before finding a single short brown hair trapped in the drain. He bagged and tagged it, hoping for the best. After he finished in the bathroom, he moved on to the kitchen to dust everywhere. Greg had already been through here, but he wanted to be sure.

Nick dusted everything, carefully lifting prints. He dusted the walls, finding a handprint that was too large to belong to Christine. After another half hour, Nick left, bringing his evidence with him to the lab.

CSICSICSICSI

Greg was in the lab, talking to Hodges. Hodges was telling Greg that his evidence would have to wait in line and Greg was determined to change the lab rat's mind.

"Come on, Hodges! Murder trumps robbery."

"It was an _armed _robbery."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Fine. Murder trumps _armed _robbery."

"Sorry. Grissom's evidence comes first."

"Hodges!"

"Nope."

"Just run it!"

"No."

Greg was getting frustrated. After all, no one really liked Hodges anyways. Well, except maybe Wendy. Other then that, no one. "As I said before, Grissom's evidence comes first."

"I'll run it," Warrick said, entering the trace lab. Warrick was still on lab duty after being shot a month earlier. His neck had healed, along with the wound in his chest, but the doctors still wouldn't give him the okay for fieldwork.

"Thanks man," Greg said, handing Warrick the evidence. Hodges fixed Warrick with a glare before going back to the evidence from the robbery.

Greg's next stop was Wendy at the DNA lab. He had a few promising hairs that he needed her to run. She was happy (well, not happy, but compared to Hodges, she was ecstatic.) to run the samples for him. He handed ran the prints he and Nick had lifted through AFIS, getting no hits.

Since the other evidence would take a while to process, Greg headed down to the morgue.

CSICSICSICSI

David photographed the two bodies thoroughly, understanding that the CSIs expected complete documentation. He took samples of the skin under her fingernails on the off chance that the DNA hadn't been destroyed by the bleach that both she and her lover had been drenched in.

He bagged her bra and underwear carefully, labeling it. He did the same with the male's clothing, separating it into different bags. He placed the bags on the counter, awaiting Greg or Nick to pick them up. Right on time, Greg showed up.

"So, what do you have for me?" he asked.

David looked at him and began his preliminary findings. "Male victim's name is Steven Fuller. Cause of death, likely exsanguination. He was stabbed ten times in the chest. Female victim, Christine Little. She was raped sometime before she was killed. Same probable cause of death. Stabbed eight times."

"Did you get any DNA?"

"I swabbed, but I doubt you'll find anything. He drenched her in bleach, destroying most of the evidence. What I don't get is why he dressed her again."

"Maybe he knew her and felt bad."

"Maybe…"

With that, Greg took the evidence out of the cold morgue to the warmer—sometimes _too_ warm—lab.

CSICSICSI

A week ago, Sara decided that she needed a job. Sure, she loved staying home with Gil, but honestly, she was bored out of her mind. She needed to _do _something. She knew she couldn't go back to the lab, so she began searching for a job.

A day after she had decided to work, she found the perfect job. A university needed a Physics professor. And, Sara's major was in Physics. She applied as soon as she could and was pleased to become a professor for the University of Las Vegas. Gil was happy that she had gotten a job. He teased her about becoming a teacher, but she really felt that she could enjoy herself teaching.

And, today had been her first class.

Her classroom was filled with college students eagerly awaiting her lecture. She discussed what their curriculum would be over the semester and told them what to expect. She outlined the year with them and what they would have to do in order to pass her class. An hour and a half later, she was done.

And she loved it.

Many of the students had conversed with her after class, discussing what they would like to cover if they had time. Sara was more then happy to see that she had several bright students who were eager to learn. And it was good to feel needed again.

When she had returned home, she told Gil all about it and could barely contain her excitement. He laughed at her, happy that she was happy. He watched her as she talked over dinner, discussing her plan for the semester. Now, hours later, she lay in bed, watching the minutes tick away on her clock, content to just lie there and wait for Gil to return. She had no idea that horror lay in her future.

CSICISCSI

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay! I've had most of this written for a while, but I was kind of stuck… Anyways, I figured I should just stop here and post this much. Oh, and I am aware that the photographer found another victim in the first chapter, but this is just describing _who _he picked. And, Sara has a job because I felt bad for her and I couldn't see her working at the lab again, so university professor was the best I could come up with. And, does anyone know if "University of Las Vegas" is abbreviated "UNLV" or "ULV"? Cause for some reason I think it's "UNLV"… Anyways, please review!


	3. Watching

A/N: I have some time this morning to write, so hopefully I'll finish this chapter and be able to post it… Thanks for all the

**A/N: **I have some time this morning to write, so hopefully I'll finish this chapter and be able to post it… Thanks for all the reviews! They're all really encouraging. I'm glad that you like that Sara is a professor because I was kind of iffy giving her work that didn't involve the crime lab. So, remember to review again!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned CSI, I would be happy and would remind everyone every two seconds that I did.

**Watching **_Chapter Two_

The photographer watched the red head. He found out that her name was Hannah West. She was thirty-seven years old, divorced. She worked as a CEO of one of the companies in the office building he had seen her enter yesterday. He had followed her home to her large house on the outskirts of Las Vegas. He waited until she left before pulling in to her driveway.

He exited his car, acting like he was supposed to be there. Not that it mattered, really. It was seven am and all the neighbors were either asleep for another hour or at work. He pulled out his lock pick set—a gift from his father—and picked the lock on the door. The door swung open with ease and he took care of the security system easily.

He walked into her house, pulling on a pair of leather gloves so he wouldn't leave prints. His shoes were silent on the hard wood floor as he explored the house. It was difficult to imagine Hannah living here on her own. The house was spacious and almost empty feeling. The downstairs had a bathroom, large kitchen, dining room that looked like it was never used, a lounge, and a study. The upstairs was equally large with three bathrooms, one master bedroom, an office, an exercise room, and two spare bedrooms.

The only rooms that looked like anyone used them were the office, master bedroom, and a little girl's room. The kitchen was also used frequently. Looking in her fridge, he was surprised that most of the food was leftovers and not the kind from restaurants. No, these were homemade.

He photographed the fridge, smiling. He went and took pictures of the entire house, carefully documenting each and every trinket in her cold, empty house. When he got to her room, he gently pulled open each drawer in her beaureau, taking pictures of everything. He photographed all the pictures she had hanging on her wall. Some of the pictures were of her and a baby; others were pictures of that baby. The pictures got progressively more recent until he determined that the baby girl was now about five or six. Her hair, like her mother's, was red, but she had a dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

He reached out and touched the picture of the little girl, amazed by how pretty she was. She would grow up to be just like her mother. He couldn't resist what he did next. He pulled a picture off the wall, gently, and removed the back of the frame. The picture was mother and daughter in a park. It was beautiful. He placed the empty frame on the wall and took the picture with him. He could already imagine what their life would be like.

Hannah came home, carrying her baby with her. She kissed him, and he would kiss her back. He would hold his new daughter and listen to all her stories about school even though she was difficult to understand at times. He would nod and agree with her at the right moments, and she would call him "Daddy". It would be perfect.

He took a spare key from the office and left, locking the door and setting the alarm again. This time, he would get it right.

CSICSICSICSICSICSI

Catherine just finished her case. It was a robbing of a convenience store. The kid had been only sixteen and stupid. He left prints all over the store, making it easy to nail him. Satisfied with a day's—well, technically a night's—good work, she went to get Warrick. After a month, he still lived with her and Lindsey. If possible, the two had gotten even closer as he recovered. They discussed him moving out, but they saw no reason for him to.

Two weeks ago, he moved into her room, with Lindsey's silent approval. The two of them hadn't told anyone, except for Sara and Grissom, about this. They knew that they would understand and keep it quiet. After all, if they could work together and not have problems, why should one of them have to change shift?

"Hey," Catherine said, leaning in the doorframe of the break room.

"Hey," Warrick replied, his face lighting up when he saw her. "Ready to go?" Catherine nodded. The two walked out of the lab, resisting the urge to hold hands. She climbed into the driver's side while Warrick rode in the passenger's side. They drove home in a comfortable silence. They got out of the car, enjoying the morning air. The couple just stood in the front yard, locked in a happy embrace, content to just stand there and enjoy the morning.

"Come on," Catherine said after a moment, "Lindsey has to be up soon." She walked inside while Warrick remained outside for a moment. He couldn't believe his luck. After being shot and nearly dying, he was finally with the woman he loved. And, he also got to take care of Lindsey, who he loved just as much as her mother. He almost wanted to thank the former undersheriff for shooting him since his life had improved dramatically after being in the hospital. He finally had a real family.

He entered the house just as Catherine woke up her teenager. He could hear Lindsey groan that she had to go to school. His grin spread as Catherine threatened to throw a bucket of ice water on her. Lindsey groaned again and he heard movement. Five minutes later, the shower was running and Catherine had returned to the kitchen.

Warrick cracked an egg into a frying pan, making the three of them scrambled eggs. The morning had become routine over the four weeks he had stayed with Catherine and Lindsey. Every morning, Lindsey would grumble about school and turn on the shower. Warrick would cook eggs while Catherine made toast and sometimes bacon or sausage. Today was a sausage day.

Lindsey had good timing down to an art. She would come down the stairs, fully dressed, just as breakfast was done cooking. She would then eat and either Catherine or Warrick would drive her to school. The remaining adult would clean up and change for bed. Then they would watch a movie or read together, just happy to be together. They would sleep while Lindsey was at school and one of them would go to pick her up at four.

It was a good life, and Warrick wouldn't trade it for anything.

CSICSICSI

Hannah West came home after work, bringing her daughter with her today. The weekend had been her ex's with Lily and she was happy to bring her little girl home. Lily was tired after a day at day camp and she slept in her mother's arms. Hannah was so proud of her little girl: Lily could already read and write at the age of six and would read her mother Dr. Seuss books.

The little girl clutched one of these books in her tiny hand as her mother carried her into the house.

Click.

Neither of them heard the soft shutter noise coming from the camera. Hannah woke Lily up, asking her what she wanted for dinner. As usual, the girl requested macaroni and cheese. Her mother laughed, telling her that she they would have macaroni for dinner. This health nut opened a box of kraft macaroni and cheese and made it for her and her daughter.

The photographer took countless pictures of this, knowing that he had finally found the right woman for him. The two girls talked about everything and he watched them, imagining himself sitting with them. They would love him; he was sure of that.

Click.

CSICSICSI

**A/N: **Look! I finished another chapter! Only two days after my other one. I'm very proud of myself. So, tell me what you think! Review!


	4. Processing

A/N: Sorry about the sporadic updates Anger

**A/N: **Sorry about the sporadic updates. School starts next week (sadly) and I sort of put off my summer work until now. So, between reading this ridiculously boring book and doing my physics homework, I'll try to update. Thanks for all the reviews! I appreciate all of them.

**Disclaimer: **I have nothing creative to say: I don't own it.

Processing _Chapter Three_

Greg walked out of the morgue, autopsy information in hand. He read through it, confirming that both victims had been killed from sharp force trauma. The autopsy confirmed that the knife found at the scene was indeed the murder weapon. Greg sighed in exasperation as he returned to the lab, hoping that the evidence would lead him to the killer.

Nick was staring at a partial DNA sample taken from the rape kit done on the female victim. They had barely enough DNA to extract, let alone find a match on someone. It was hopeless. All the samples had been too degraded to get a full DNA profile. He left the DNA lab, searching for Greg. The two CSIs almost collided turning the corner.

They exchanged information quickly, in only a manner that they could. They finished each other's sentences, coming to the same conclusion: they had nothing. They agreed to return to work tomorrow, hoping that in their absence, the evidence would make sense.

CSICSICSICSI

Hannah put her little girl to bed, tucking her in and turning on the nightlight. Lily was asleep almost instantly, exhausted after a long day. Hannah descended the staircase, keeping the lights off so as not to disturb her sleeping child. She switched off the porch light, glancing casually out at the road as she did so. All was quiet in peaceful suburbia.

She turned and went back to the book she was currently reading. A knock on her front door interrupted her leisure time. Slightly agitated, she put down her book and went to answer the door. Flicking on the outdoor light, she frowned at the figure standing at her door. She opened the door slightly, not allowing the man to enter.

"Hi," he said.

Hannah frowned. Her ex-husband was at her house late at night. "Hi," she replied, her voice betraying her suspicion.

"Listen. Can we… Can we talk? I mean…" he trailed off, unsure.

"What do you want, Jack?"

"We… we never talk anymore. I miss you, Hannah. And, us not speaking is hard on Lily. I know it's a stupid excuse, but I really, really miss you."

Hannah's expression softened slightly. Even though they had gone through a bitter divorce, she still cared about the father of her child. She stepped back, letting him enter the house he had once owned and lived in. She led him into the living room, sitting down on the couch, finally willing to talk things out. Sure, they would never get back together, but they could at least be friends if only for their little girl who slept upstairs.

They talked about everything, from affairs to family, unaware that they were being watched.

CSICSICSI

He watched the man enter the house, fuming. Why would Hannah do this to him? She loved _him _not this man! He placed his camera delicately on the seat next to him, exiting his car almost silently. He walked to the back door, knowing that the two were in the living room. The photographer slipped his key into the lock and turned, opening the door silently. He walked into the kitchen, grateful for the cloak of darkness. He walked straight to a knife block, removing a few before he found one that would suffice.

He slipped through the shadows, his dark clothes blending perfectly into his surroundings. He approached the living room, barely containing the adrenaline rush that coursed through his system. He heard them talking, apologizing. She told him how sorry she was, and how she knew they could never make it work. The man who spoke to her disagreed. He said they could make it work. They could make it for Lily.

"Jack…No."

The man—the photographer assumed his name was Jack—kept insisting that they could be happy again. "We can, Hannah. Remember how it was before? We could be like we were when Lily was a baby."

"No, we can't. I can't…"

That was all the photographer needed to hear. He leaped up catching both of the Wests off guard. He struck the man first, stabbing him violently. He kept plunging the knife into the man, his fury making his vision black around the edges. After a few moments, he became aware of Hannah's screaming. He looked up just in time to see her sprint away.

He ran after her, cornering her in the study. She cried, trying to beg with him. He walked towards her, the knife resting soundly in his left hand. She pleaded for her life, for the life of her child. He wiped a tear off her cheek and her terrified sobbing turned to whimpers of horror. He kissed her softly, trying to express how he felt about her. She pulled back, horror evident in her eyes.

Hannah watched him change from kind to furious. She was too scared to make a sound as he violently ripped off her clothes. He raped her, and all she could think was that she hoped her baby hadn't woken up. Afterwards, she lay in a terrified heap on the ground, refusing to make a sound. He sat next to her, telling her how much he loved her.

That's when the worst thing possible happened. "Mommy?" Lily's innocent voice came from the doorway. The little girl stood in her pajamas, clutching her stuffed kitty to her chest. Her blue eyes were wide with fear as she took in the scene.

The man stood, smiling at the child. "NO!" Hannah found her voice and strength as she grabbed the man's ankles, desperately trying to keep him from her daughter. "Run, Lily!" she ordered and the girl ran, crying. The man turned on Hannah, his expression terrifying. He killed her, slicing her throat before stabbing her again and again.

He chased after Lily, searching for half an hour, but he couldn't find her. He cleaned up the house hastily, trying to erase all signs that he had been there. Again, he used bleach to destroy evidence, but this time he was less careful. The sun would be up in a few hours and he had to get out of here as fast as he could. He left, leaving a single witness to his crimes.

CSICSICSICSICSI

Catherine and Grissom got the call to the scene. The house was in suburban Las Vegas and took all of ten minutes to drive there. The two entered the house, greeting Brass as they came within hearing range. "Two vics. One is Hannah West, other Jack West. Both of them are divorced, one kid. Daughter, age six, Lily West. Currently unaccounted for. We have an amber alert out for the girl," Jim Brass told them after they exchanged pleasantries.

They walked through the house, examining the scene. The front door had been locked and the front hall looked undisturbed. The living room, however, was a different story. Blood splatter was all over the walls and ceiling. The man, Jack West, was lying next to the love seat, his eyes wide with shock. Catherine began photographing the scene as Grissom explored the house further.

Hannah West was dead in the study, her blood ruining the old books that sat on shelves. She was naked and had defensive wounds on her hands and arms. Hannah West did not want to die. He noticed a blood trail leading out of the study and up the stairs in the kitchen. Taking plenty of pictures, he followed the blood trail. It seemed that the killer had searched every room.

As he entered the girl's room, he heard a muffled sound of crying coming from the closet. He opened it carefully, trying not to scare whoever was in there. He looked in the corner and moved a blanket aside to reveal a little girl. Her blue eyes met his, beginning him for help. "Hey," he said, kneeling down next to her. She didn't respond. "I'm Gil. Are you Lily?" The little girl nodded.

"Will you come with me, Lily?" Again, she nodded. Grissom picked her up, carefully bringing her down the front stairs to avoid seeing her dead parents. Brass stood in the front hall, interviewing the man who had called in the murder. "Jim, call off the Amber Alert, I found her." Brass nodded, using his phone to dial dispatch.

Lily hid herself in Grissom's shoulder, still holding her stuffed cat close to her. The two of them waited for an ambulance to come so they could check on the girl. They sat on the front steps, the girl silently crying while the man contemplated what had happened in there.

He stood up, taking Lily's hand in his as he heard the ambulance approach.

CSICSICSICSICSI

**A/N: **okay, did anyone actually think I would kill Lily? Actually, I didn't even want to kill Hannah. I get very attached to my characters. So, what should happen to Lily? You have three choices: One, she goes away with some nice relative, never to be seen again. Two, she goes home with Catherine and Warrick. Or three, she goes with Grissom and Sara. I have considered all three ways, and I don't know what to do with her. So, tell me what you think. Please? If not, I'll just send her away…


	5. Wandering

**Anger**

**A/N: **Okay, I know I'm a terrible, terrible person. I mean, I updated last Monday and it's Sunday now… So, thank you for bearing with me. It was my last week of summer so I had TONS of stuff to do. And, this is my last _day _of summer, so I wouldn't be looking for another update until at least the weekend. But, thank you for all the wonderful reviews and thank you to everyone who has alerted or favorited me or my story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Wandering **_Chapter Four_

Lily was supposed to wait in Mr. Gil's office, but she had been in there _forever. _I mean, he left her there a whole ten _minutes _ago! So, Lily, being the intellectual child that she was, explored the office. After another five minutes, she was bored again. Mr. Gil's books were too big for her and had long words like "entomology" on them. She shook her head in disgust and went looking for something to play with.

She opened the door to the office and looked out into the lab. Now _there _was a place that a child could have fun. She closed the door behind her and began her explorations. Her kitty, fondly named Marble, was clutched in her right hand while she used the other to touch the wall. Lily just wanted to go home. Mr. Gil had told her that she couldn't go home because a bad man hurt her mommy and daddy. She didn't understand. Didn't you go to the hospital when you were hurt bad?

Lily sniffled as she thought of the bad man. He was really scary. He had hurt her mommy. And now she wasn't aloud to see her anymore. She sniffled again, wiping a tear off on the back of her hand. Somehow, she found her way to the entrance of the lab. There were lots of adults here, but none of them seemed to notice her. She walked past them and sat on a chair, trying her best not to think about her mommy.

Again, Lily grew bored of just sitting quickly. She wandered back the way she came, slipping by several grown ups. Eventually, one of them noticed them. She had brown hair and brown eyes and she knelt down next to Lily.

"Hey, I'm Sara," the lady said to Lily. "What's your name?"

"Lily," the girl replied shyly.

"Where are your parents, Lily?"

"I can't see Mommy and Daddy cause they were hurt by a bad man," she told her gravely.

The woman's features softened slightly. "Well, who is supposed to be taking care of you?"

"Mr. Gil."

A smile lit Sara's features as she imagined Gil taking care of this little girl. "Well, if we put you back in his office, then we can pretend that you were there the whole time, okay?"

"Okay," Lily's mood followed Sara's, and she smiled and took Sara's hand.

The two of them walked to Gil's office and sat on the couch. A minute later, Gil came in. "Hey Lily," he said, not looking up from the paperwork he held in his hand, "sorry I took so long, I ran into a few people." He looked up and saw Lily sound asleep, leaning against Sara. Gil grinned when he saw them. She looked so…right with a child.

"How long has she been asleep?"

"Just a few minutes or two. What happened?" she asked at a whisper so as not to wake the sleeping child.

"Murdered. Catherine is processing the scene. I brought her back in hopes of getting a picture of this guy, but I haven't tried yet. She's traumatized because I think she saw her mother getting murdered."

Sara shook her head, understanding what it was like to see a dead parent. "I've called her family, but her only living relatives are an aunt and uncle on a cruise somewhere. I can't contact them for another few days until they port in Alaska."

She nodded, careful not to wake Lily. "What…" Sara hesitated, "what will happen to her until then?"

Gil shrugged, his expression somber. "Either she finds a foster family or she gets sent to a group home." She nodded, hating to leave the girl to go through the system.

After a moment of sober silence, she spoke. "Couldn't we watch her? Just for a few days?" Gil took in her pleading expression and knew he would never win. "I mean, I work during the day, you work at night, we could have one of us home at all times… And if you can't watch her while I have class I could always bring her with me."

He silenced her before she could continue. "For only a few days. Then we have to give her back to her family." Sara's grin was worth anything bad that Lily could do.

"Thank you," her smile still stayed, knowing that she had saved one little girl from the foster care system.

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He fumed. He could barely believe it. What was with these women? All he did was try to save them and he was rewarded with betrayal. And, what was worse, he wasn't even aloud to take his Lily with him. He had searched that house for at least an hour before finally giving up. After all, he did have to clean up a bit.

He took his camera and scanned the crowds. No one. Not one of them caught his eye. None of the women had the sparkle of life that he longed for. All of them were boring clones, going around with no personality. He drove away from the mall, disgusted with all of them. He continued to drive, searching for someone he could love.

There was no one. Maybe he just wasn't looking hard enough. Maybe it was him who had become boring, not the women. No. That wasn't true. _He _was no different. If anything, he was more determined to find someone to love. After all, love was what separated the humans from the animals. And he wasn't an animal.

After another few minutes of driving, he saw it, the sparkle of life. He slowed to a stop, pulling his camera out quickly. He zoomed in on her face and saw… a man. He was furious that his camera had been attracted to a man. He must have been mistaken. There was no way that the sparkle had really been there.

He continued to drive, his frustration growing with every mile. Finally, he saw her. She was much younger then he was used to. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked maybe eighteen. She stood on the corner, anxiously waiting for someone.

_Click. _

He took her picture, excited that he had found someone to love. He watched her for maybe ten minutes when a car pulled up. The man inside—he assumed it was her father—rolled down the window and yelled at her. She lowered her head and took it, not retaliating. After her father finished yelling, she got in the passenger's seat and they drove off.

He followed, wanting to save this girl.

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**A/N: **Sorry that it's so short… It's just if I go on, then it'll be REALLY long and I don't feel like writing that much. So, please leave a review. Tell me what you think.


	6. Little Girls and Ribbons

**Anger**

**A/N: **Again, apologies. My life is chaos at the moment, so updating has become difficult. I finished my first two weeks of school and can proudly say that I got a 91 on my first AP Physics test (it's college level) and a 99 on my Trig test. So, I was happy and decided that you, my lovely readers, deserve another chapters. Hopefully life will become more routine and updates will become a regular occurrence. Until then, sorry for my sporadic updates.

**Disclaimer: **Not owned by me.

**Little Girls and Ribbons** _Chapter Five_

He watched her argue with the man. By now, he decided that the man was her father. The girl—for she was not yet old enough to be considered a woman—had a terrible relationship with her. He snapped her photo quickly as she walked past a window.

_Click._

Another soul was his. He wanted more then anything to speak with her, but knew he had to be patient. After all, he had acted too quickly with Hannah, and look where that got him. No. This time he would be careful. He would take out the man when the girl wasn't around, freeing her from that horrible dictator.

Then she would be his forever. He would be her savior. Her prince charming. Her knight in shining armor. Yes. Everything would be perfect. He was sure of it this time.

As he watched the house grow dark, he couldn't help but think of the last two women he had fallen for. More importantly, though, he kept thinking about Lily. All he had wanted was to take her with him, to assure her that everything would be fine. He would never hurt her. She was an innocent child who happened to witness something horrible.

He looked at the seat next to him, examining the doll he had taken from the girl's room. The doll had red hair, very similar to her owner's, and incredibly blue eyes. The dusting of freckles on her nose made her look like a miniature version of Lily and it gave him comfort to see something so innocent sitting in his car.

He would find Lily and take her with him and they could be a family with this new girl he had fallen for. Everything would be just right. He just had to be patient.

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Catherine walked to her car, Warrick trailing behind. Both of them were tired after a long day of work. Warrick had spent the night finger printing an entire casino. He could barely think through all the noise of winning. It was difficult for him to lift the many, many prints off the slot machine their suspect had used, making it a very dull night.

Catherine, on the other hand, had spent the majority of the night with Nick and Greg processing the West house. Nick and Greg pointed out parallels with their current case, forming an idea that there was a serial killer out there. To make matters worse, Ecklie had caught on somehow and demanded perfection from his CSIs.

To say the least, neither of them were up for conversation.

Catherine drove home and the silence was deafening. It was unbearable to be in the car in complete silence, but neither of them had the energy to turn on the radio or make simple conversation. They arrived home fifteen minutes later, still not speaking. Warrick unlocked the door, exhausted.

Lindsey was at a friend's house, having a sleep over in celebration of the weekend. The house was quiet, the steady hum of the air conditioner keeping true silence at bay. Warrick opened the fridge, wordlessly handing Catherine a beer and keeping one for himself. He opened his and took a long drink before speaking.

"Spill," he said, simply. He could tell when a case really got to Catherine, and this was one of those times.

She took a drink of her beer, unsure what to say. She could lie and say that everything was fine and hope he was too tired to see through her lie. She could also tell him everything, possibly causing conflict but maybe making herself feel better. She went for the safe bet. "Nothing… It's just been a long day, is all."

He surveyed her with his piercing green eyes and she knew he could see right through her. She was amazed at his skill, sometimes. Today, though, she was just annoyed by it. "Liar," he told her calmly before taking another drink of beer.

She sighed. He always knew. "Really. I'm fine."

"No you're not." His voice was still as calm and reasonable as it would be if they were discussing the weather.

By now, Catherine was at her wit's end. She loved Warrick, she really, truly did, but sometimes she couldn't stand him. "It's just a case."

"Tell me about it." Still calm, still reasonable.

She took another sip of her beer, debating whether or not to argue. She chose the latter, too tired to even think about arguing. "There was this case that Nick and Greg had a few days ago. A woman and her boyfriend were murdered in her apartment. The woman was raped."

Warrick nodded, encouraging her silently. "Earlier tonight, the cops were called in on a double murder and a child abduction. A woman and her ex husband were killed, the woman raped. The worst part was that their little girl was upstairs, hiding in her closet. Gil found her after we got there. He thinks she saw the murder happen."

She sighed, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. Sometimes cases wore her down emotionally and physically, causing a meltdown. Unfortunately, this seemed like one of them. "The girl is staying with Gil and Sara. I almost took her home myself. She doesn't deserve to be in the foster care system… It's just not right."

Catherine tried her best not to cry, but the tears came anyways. She rested her drink on the counter, angrily wiping away her tears. "Hey," Warrick's voice was soft and low, comforting her. He placed his drink on the counter as well before pulling her close to him. She buried her head into his shoulder, shaking with silent sobs. He stroked her hair gently, whispering calming words to her.

They stood there for several minutes before Catherine pulled back slightly to kiss him. Their kiss turned from gentle to passionate quickly. She drew him to the bedroom, seeking comfort in him. He gladly obliged.

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Sara and Gil took Lily home after shift ended. The little girl was awake again and very talkative. She talked about anything and everything except her parents as they drove to Gil's town house. She mentioned going to the zoo once, but stopped after she said the word "Daddy".

Lily explored every room in the house with a fascination only a child could manage. Sara watched her with affection as she pulled out all the books on the shelf, settling on one of Sara's favorites: The Princess Bride.

The little girl looked at the cover in awe and demanded to be read to. The woman consented quickly, trying to distract Lily as Gil fixed the spare room for her. First, he cleared off the shelf containing his bug collection, stashing it safely in the closet. He childproofed the room, removing anything "scary" or breakable.

Earlier, he had been specifically told by his better half to "get rid of the bugs." He didn't understand why. As a child, young Gil was all about bugs. He wanted to grow up and have a giant bug farm. And, as all young boys thought, there would be no girls aloud because girls were icky—well… except for Mommy.

He walked out of the room, satisfied with his adjustments and saw Sara and Lily sitting together again. Lily was listening with rapt attention to Sara, who described the love between Westley and Buttercup. Suddenly, the story was interrupted. "Sara," the girl asked, "do you love Mr. Gil?"

The woman sent her a loving smile. "Of course I do."

"Like Buttercup and Westley?"

Her smile grew as she answered, "Exactly like Buttercup and Westley."

They continued reading until Lily fell asleep again. Together, Gil and Sara moved the girl into the bedroom, leaving the door cracked so enough light could get in. They whispered about work for a while before the inevitable conversation came up.

"Do we want kids?" Sara asked after they lapsed into silence.

Gil seriously considered the question before answering. "Yes. Kids would be a pain, but they would be worth it. Do you?"

She smiled. "I used to think I didn't, but now I'm not so sure. I mean, I feel like taking care of Lily is almost second nature."

He grinned. "You looked natural with her." She blushed lightly at his compliment. "I think we should have at least one. You never know, it might be a super baby."

Sara laughed quietly. "Why do you say that?"

"Combine our intelligence and you have one smart child." They both laughed at the notion of their children. Gil grew serious again before adding, "We'll make a real family. No fighting, no abuse, nothing. I promise." He looked into her eyes and she knew it was true.

She would finally have the family she had always wanted.

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In the late morning, Lily woke up. She chattered constantly as Sara made breakfast. She wanted to read more of the book to find out what happened to Buttercup after Prince Humperdink came. Sara couldn't help but share her enthusiasm.

Lily explored more after breakfast and discovered the closet that had wrapping paper and gift bags stored in it. She also found a bag of multi-coloured ribbon. Sara, who had let her attention waver for an instant, didn't notice until it was too late. Lily had "decorated" the living room, tying a green ribbon on the coffee table and a purple ribbon placed gently on the couch. Red, blue, orange, and pink ribbon littered bookshelves and the fireplace.

Lily wore a purple one in her hair and handed a pink one to Sara, motioning for her to wear it on her head. Sara laughed at how colourful everything had become and indulged Lily by tying the ribbon in her hair.

Gil would be very upset to learn that his entomology books were now decorated with orange ribbon.

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**A/N: **LOOK! I wrote it all in one sitting. Aren't you guys proud of me? Also, I do not own the Princess Bride, either. Although, I really wish I did. It is a _great _book and a _fabulous _movie. If you haven't seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It's really true to the book, too. Soooo, I hope you liked it. If you did, leave a review. If you didn't, well, leave a review anyways. Please? I'm begging you…


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